


The Tradition

by prepper01



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: I have no idea. Read it if you want., Just wanted to write, Multi, Scott is sweet., Takes place after Monster Prom, They have a tradition of kidnapping a human for some reason, so I'm not sure how often it will be updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prepper01/pseuds/prepper01
Relationships: I'll update the tags as we go! - Relationship, who knows? - Relationship
Kudos: 8





	The Tradition

_“Mr. Parkers? Mr. Parkers, are you there? It’s me, Sheriff Brushton. I thought I heard a scream while driving past,” she called out as she slowly pushed the door of the cabin open. It was a two-room cabin, and the room she now stood in contained a wood stove, small kitchen, and a place to eat, along with various supplies the old farmer would use during the winter. The other room was behind a closed door, and was no doubt the old man’s bedroom. She suddenly realized the cabin was freezing. Sheriff Brushton drew her gun as she walked inwards, towards the stove, and placed a hand over it. The coals were cold and gone, even though outside was mid-winter. Mr. Parker would never let the fire go out, unless…_

_She began to cautiously walk towards closed bedroom door._

_“Mr. Parker?” she called again, hoping for a response. She reached the door and, gun still drawn, slowly pushed it open. Immediately she saw why the cabin was so cold._

_The window of the room was broken, the inside shutters destroyed and wretched inwards. Did an animal do this-_

_She stepped in something sticky. Slowly she brought her line of sight down, staring at what her foot was in. It was red, and gunky. The outside edges were frozen. She knelt down and slowly placed her finger into it, praying it wasn’t what she knew it was._

_Her prayers went unanswered._

_It was blood._

_Another drop of it suddenly dripped down onto her hand, cold and wet. Startled, she looked upwards… and screamed._

_What remained of the old farmer known as Mr. Parker as draped over one of the beams of the roof. His face, or what was left of it, displayed a look of pure horror. Still clutched in his almost frozen fingers was a small revolver, bent and useless now. Bitemarks covered his exposed flesh. Brushton stood up quickly, then almost fell as her knees failed to lock. She stumbled away from the remains._

_An animal couldn’t do this… and whatever made the scream wasn’t Mr. Parker… it was the thing that killed and ate him._

_Suddenly, she heard it outside again. The screaming. It pierced the air so loud, she was confident whatever was making it was close… and was getting closer. She froze for a moment. What could she do? Stay here and barricade the door, or make a mad dash for her patrol car?_

_She chose to run for her patrol car. She was halfway there when she saw it in the treeline, coming towards her. It was large, a mix of bones, wood, and rotted deer. Its maw was coated in blood. She fired, and-_

“Heyo, whatcha doing?”

I stopped writing with a start, closing my book quickly before anyone saw what I was writing. A page fluttered out and down onto the ground, towards whoever had called out. I looked down at it, then at the figure that appeared standing just outside the light of the streetlamp I was sitting under.

He was about as tall as me, so he was over six feet. He was also dressed in one of those typical high school jock sport jackets, the kind you only see in movies, with a white shirt. He had a beard, and his arms had obvious tufts of hair as well. By the size of his outline, he looked really muscled. There was a baseball cap on his head, too. He had it pulled down enough to cover his ears and his eyes. It was too dim for me to see much else. However, he must have had a lot of cologne on. Even though he stood a good eight feet away, I could smell it. Cologne, a smooth smelling one, and… something else, like he had just been petting a dog.

I had no idea who he was.

“Um, hi?” I said awkwardly.

“Hi!” he replied. He… sounded like a jock. A thick voice, almost… dumb sounding? Don’t get me wrong, he sounded nice, but the way he spoke sounded like a parody of a stereotypical jock.

“Do I know you?” I asked. He didn’t sound familiar, and I didn’t recognize what I had seen. None of my few friends were as tall as me, and none of them had facial hair.

“Nope!” he said back, “I’ve never met you before.”

I blinked. I wanted to get up and leave right then and there, but if I did that, it would be rude. I didn’t want to give that impression, even if this guy was a complete stranger.

“Oh,” I said, “Um… then why-”

A small breeze came suddenly, picking up the page that had fallen out when I closed my book. I reached on reflex towards it as it sailed towards the jock.

“Oh, shoot, my-”

“Heyo, I got it!” said the stranger as he knelt down and snatched it up off the ground before it could drift any further. The way he did it was odd. I can’t explain it, but his speed and movement… felt off.

He stayed just outside the light, but raised up the paper so that it was underneath the yellow glow. He wasn’t handing it back. I panicked. Was he reading it?

“That’s, uh, just something I was working on-”

“Bro, did you write this? That’s totally cool! I can totally read this!”

He kept staring at the page. Was he reading it? I was getting nervous. Why did he say he could totally read it? Was it sarcasm? No one knew I liked to write in my spare time. Did this guy actually know me? He said he hadn’t, but who approached someone sitting alone in a park at 11 o’clock at night? Maybe he was a friend of someone I knew, and had heard of me from them?

“Well dude, did you?”

I snapped out of my thoughts.

“Just some random writing. Nothing important, honest,” I replied nervously.

“I like it! It’s… wordy! What’s the thing chasing her?”

“I’m… not sure yet? It’s a sheriff trying to protect an isolated town in a forest, so… maybe a wendigo, or a werewolf? I don’t know.”

The moment I mentioned that final part his eyes shot up from the paper and he stepped forward, into the light, for the first time. Now I knew what he looked like, and yes, he did have a lot of hair besides that on his face. He was buff too. Really buff. What got my attention more was his grin. It was a large grin, and his teeth were very white. He also looked like he had work done on his canine teeth. They looked bigger, but it was probably a trick of the light. Streetlamps in old parks weren’t the best to rely on for good lighting at night.

The jock got closer.

“Werewolves? That’s totally awesome!”

“Uh… thanks again, I guess? Can I have that-”

“Oh yeah, man, for sure!” he said almost instantly after I started to ask. He handed the paper back, and I took it and placed it back into my book with the other loose pages. For a moment I thought he would leave now. Part of me hoped he would. I was uncomfortable. If he didn’t know me, and I didn’t know him, why had he stopped to talk so randomly? They always taught us that wasn’t a good sign.

Then he sat down on the bench next to me.

“Wow. You wrote all that?” he said as he gestured at the book I held.

“Yeah,” I replied quickly, looking around in the dark. Was anyone nearby? I didn’t see anyone besides the thick area of trees and shrubs that made up this park and walking area.

If he killed me, there better be a witness or something.

“So whatcha doing outside at night writing? Isn’t it kinda cold for ya?”

He was right. The night was cool, but I didn’t mind. I always enjoyed walking at nights, pausing to sit and write wherever I felt inspiration. I didn’t dare tell him that. The last thing I needed was him to stalk me later…

Of course, that was assuming he didn’t kill me anytime tonight. I shuddered. Maybe if I kept him talking, he wouldn’t. Besides, with him beside me now, there was no way I could run away without him grabbing me first. I should have left while he was still standing outside of the light. Stupid me.

“I don’t mind it,” I said, “It’s a nice night.”

I heard something very quiet right then and there. A slight tapping, like a foot, or… a dog’s wagging tail? I looked around again, but saw nothing. I was probably nervous and hearing things from whoever Mr. Mystery Jock was.

“Uh huh,” he replied, “plus it’s a pretty waning gibbus!”

“Huh?”

“Waning gibbus, dude. It’s the moon phase that comes after the full moon.”

I blinked again. Apparently he wasn’t as dumb as he sounded. I cringed at that thought immediately after. Of course he wasn’t dumb, he just sounded odd. It was rude of me to think of people like that. I was probably stupider than him. And besides, who was I to judge? My mind spent the next few seconds hurling insults and insecurities at me.

“So dude,” he said randomly, breaking me out of my thoughts again, “Want to know a fact about werewolves? You know, for writing?”

The tapping got louder. Actually, it was more of a thump now. It really sounded like a dog wagging its tail.

“Um, sure?” I said uncomfortably.

“Well bro, they don’t always need a full moon. Waning and waxing gibbus make them change too! Then they go out and prowl around, looking for people alone.”

Ok, that was enough. I didn’t like this, and I no longer cared about looking rude.”

“Um, thanks for the advice, but I really should be going now!” I said as I got ready to leave. I had my book, I just needed to pick up my pencil case, which sat beside the bench on the ground.

“Aw, don’tcha wanna hear some more?”

“No, no thanks,” I said as I hurried to stand up. I bent over to get my pencil case, looking over at the stranger, who sat there, looking ahead and smiling… almost like he was smiling at someone else hiding somewhere in front of us. Had his facial hair gotten thicker on the sides of his face? Wait, and on his arms? Maybe I was just imagining it.

I still felt that something wasn’t, but now it was magnified tenfold.

He turned his head towards me, still grinning-

His teeth!

It wasn’t a trick of the light.

He didn’t have long canines. Well he did, but not normal sized ones. He had…

He saw that I was staring.

“Huh? Oh, my teeth. Like them? Pretty wolfy, right?”

“I- You’re- What’s wrong with you? Why-”

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he took off his hat, revealing that his ears were pointed, “Scared of the big bad wolf?”

He did a large grin at his own joke, making his eyes close into almost a squint. It almost looked friendly.

Bull. He was going to kill me for sure.

Maybe if I stayed calm and acted fine, I could get away. I took a step away from him.

“I-I’m, uh, leaving now, goodby- GAH!”

He stood up, taking a step towards me. I took another one back, finally realizing where that odd thumping noise had come from.

He had a tail, wagging slowly back and forth… like a wolf who found its prey.

I stumbled back a step again, my book and pencil case pulled tight against my chest in a vain attempt to be a barrier between me and… whatever he was.

“Stay- Stay back! Stop it, please!” I cried out as he took another step towards me. His cologne was once again overpoweringly strong.

“Nuh-uh, we need you.”

“W-We?”

“Yup! Didn’t think we’d find anyone out here though. You must be lucky!”

He still sounded so friendly, so… jock-ish. It was hard to feel endangered just by listening to him. Good thing the way he looked and moved was enough to scare me.

“I…”

The words died in my throat. Screw this. I was out of here.

I turned to run, but collided with something. My head stuck whatever it was. It felt padded, yet firm, and it scratched my face raw when I bounced off of it.

I fell backwards immediately, dropping my book as my hand reached up to clutch my head. What did I hit? I looked upwards and screamed. There were two figures just outside the light, shrouded in darkness. The one I hit, who shood in front, walked under the light of the streetlamp. I screamed again.

He looked almost normal, but he wasn’t.

His skin was green, and although it didn’t smell like it, it looked slightly decayed on his neck. There was maybe an old bitemark there too. Part of his left cheek was gone, exposing his teeth and gums. His eyes were white and black, looking a mix of hatred and uninterest. There was a gash on his forehead, too.

How did I get such a detailed description? He just stood there, looking down at me, in silence for a good ten seconds. His hands dangling at his sides the whole time, and he stood still, as if in a trance.

He was… a zombie!

“The human dropped something,” said the figure behind the zombie as they bent down to pick up the book. I tried to get up, but suddenly hands clasped down on my shoulders, forcing me onto my back again. I was pinned to the pavement by-

The jocks face appeared upside down over mine, now looking much more like a wolfman. He still was grinning.

“Gotcha!” he said with another chuckle, as if this was all just a game.

“Keep him still,” said a female voice, “I’ll give him the stuff Vicky gave us!”

Stuff? What stuff? I began to struggle again. The Zombie moved forward and grabbed onto my other shoulder. Now I was pinned between the wolfish jock and a zombie.

“Let me go! I won’t tell anyone! Get off of me, please!”

A woman came into my sight, or at least, I think she was a woman. She was pale blue, and… wispy.

I suddenly realized she was partly see through. A ghost?

“No! Stop!” I screamed again, “Let me- mrph!”

The jock- no, the werewolf! It was obvious he was a werewolf now- shoved a hand over my mouth. His other hand, and the zombies hands, were pushing down hard enough that I still couldn’t break free.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “Vicky’s smart. This potion will be totally good.”

“If it was my way,” said the ghost girl as she straddled over me and leaned down into my face, “I’d just give you a bunch of party drugs. You probably wouldn’t wake up, but you’d go out in an awesome way!”

The werewolf moved his hand, or paw? No, still a hand. My mouth was free now, so I opened it up to scream one last-

The blue ghost dumped something in. Before I could spit it out, the werewolf had clamped a hand over again.

The stuff in my mouth was bitter, and tasted partly like vapor rub. I tried to hold it in my mouth.

“Drink it, or I’ll let Scott use you as a chew toy... or whatever else he wants.”

Scott? Was that the jock? A quick glance showed me he was nodding and looking down on me.

Yup, the werewolf was definably Scott.

It didn’t matter now. This was it. I was going to die, or worse. Honestly, I should feel more shocked that these… things... existed. Actual monsters… I never once thought they were real.

I swallowed the liquid.

They let go of me, but I didn’t get up. I felt too tired and disoriented to move. My eyes shut. What was in that… stuff they… gave… me…

“Awesome, he’s just about out cold. Scott, carry him over your shoulder. Brian, grab his book and his pencil case. He’ll probably want them later. I wish we could stop and get some drinks, but it’s too late now.”

“So are we going now?” asked a voice that wasn’t Scott’s… was it the zombie’s? Had to be.

“I guess. I’ll make a portal quick. Next stop, Spooky High!”

I stopped hearing and feeling just as I felt myself being lifted up. The smell of cologne was the last thing I remember.


End file.
